Zheng Lu’s stainless steel sculptures capture elaborate splashes in action. In some of the pieces, thousands of Chinese characters cover the sculpture’s surface; these are quotes from historical texts and poems, an homage to early Chinese philosophers who studied the principles of the natural world. See more examples of the artist’s work here. (Image credit: Z. Lu; via Colossal)
Few volcanoes are as well-studied as those of the Big Island of Hawai’i. With a host of seismic monitors and frequent eruptions, scientists know the near-surface region of Hawai’i well. But a recent study looked at nearly 200,000 seismic events after the 2018 collapse of Kilauea’s crater and found hints of what goes on much deeper.
Mapping out earthquakes beneath the island revealed a cluster of activity near a village named Pahala. These earthquakes took place 36 to 43 kilometers below the surface and seem to be connected to magma filling a sill complex there. From that deep reservoir, the team was also able to map seismic activity leading upwards to both Kilauea and Mauna Loa volcanoes. Despite the 34 kilometers between those two volcanoes, they appear to be fed through the same web of magma! (Image credit: top – USGS, illustration – J. Wilding et al.; research credit: J. Wilding et al.; via Physics Today)
Blooms of the algae Karenia brevis — known as a red tide — bring havoc to Gulf Coast shores. The algae can kill fish and other marine life, and it causes skin irritation and even respiratory problems for humans. But in spite of the moniker, these algae can be hard to spot; they can add a green, brown, red, or black hue to the water.
The false-color image above uses a new image processing technique that reveals the bloom. Using satellite images taken over multiple days, scientists can track and study the red tide in unprecedented detail. The new technique will be a boon to those trying to monitor and understand red tides. (Image credit: Y. Yao/USF/Planet Labs/L. Dauphin; via NASA Earth Observatory)
Seals and sea lions often hunt fish in waters too dark or turbid to rely on eyesight. Instead, they follow their whiskers, using the turbulence generated by a fish’s wake. The vortices shed by the fish cause the seal’s whiskers to vibrate, giving them sensory information. To better understand what a seal can derive from this, a recent experiment looked at what a thin whisker can pick up from an upstream cylinder.
As expected, the strength of the whisker’s vibration fell off the farther away the cylinder was. But the researchers found that, if they moved the cylinder quickly — like a fish trying to dart away — the vibration of the whisker was stronger. They also found that the whisker was sensitive to misalignment. If the cylinder was placed ahead and to the side of the whisker, the whisker would still vibrate but would do so around a different equilibrium position. That result implies that a seal can get information both about the fish’s speed and direction, simply from the twitch of its whiskers. (Image credit: seal – K. Luke, illustration – P. Gong et al.; research credit: P. Gong et al.; via APS Physics)
Inspired by a simulation, Steve Mould asks a great question in this video: can water solve a maze? Yes — with some caveats. Steve makes two different maze patterns — a simple and a complex path — in two different sizes. With the small, simple-path version, the water immediately follows the correct path without taking any wrong turns. What keeps it on the right path seems to be a combination of air pressure and surface tension. In the dead-end passages, the air has nowhere to go in order to allow the water in. So the pressure of the trapped air and the narrowness of the passages (which allows surface tension to help hold the water in place) keeps the water out of the false paths.
With the larger mazes, the water is able to take some false turns as it seeks the lowest possible path. But after awhile the incorrect region fills and the water takes the next lowest path available, which eventually leads it to the outlet.
Toward the end of the video, Steve notes that the large mazes sometimes stop flowing, even though water is still in the reservoir. I’ll quibble slightly here with his explanation, though; I don’t think surface tension is playing as much of a role in this stoppage as friction. The water is basically being driven through a long, narrow pipe, which means quite a lot of friction between it and the walls. Just as you need a certain driving pressure to keep water in a pipe flowing, the maze needs a high enough driving pressure to keep the water going. The point at which drainage stops is the point where the upstream pressure (caused by the depth of the reservoir above the maze) is equal to the pressure lost due to friction in the pipe. All in all, it’s a very cool experiment and a video well-worth watching! (Video and image credit: S. Mould)
Drying fluids can leave behind all kinds of fascinating patterns, as we’ve seen before with whiskey, coffee, and even blood. Here researchers study patterns left behind by lipids, dyes, and other fluids. They place their mixture in a rotating flask kept in a warm bath. For a few hours, the fluids mix, chemically react, and evaporate. The complex interactions that take place in that time leave behind fascinating, rune-like patterns, seen here under a microscope. It’s a bit like looking at photos of Martian landscapes! (Image credit: M. Murali and L. Shen)
Frogs and toads shoot out their tongues to capture and envelop their prey in a fraction of a second. They owe their success in this area to two features: the squishiness of their tongues and the stickiness of their saliva. The super squishy toad tongue deforms to touch as much of the insect as possible. That shape-changing helps deliver the saliva, which is an impressively fast-acting, shear-thinning fluid. Under normal circumstances, the saliva is sticky and about as viscous as honey. But the shear from the tongue’s impact makes the saliva flow like water, spreading across the insect’s body. Then it morphs back into its viscous, sticky self, providing enough adhesive power that the insect can’t escape the toad pulling its tongue back in. (Video credit: Deep Look/KQED; research credit: A. Noel et al.)
Without surfactants to stabilize them, bubbles don’t last long at room temperature. But adding a little heat changes the picture. When heated, the bubbles get stabilized by a thermal gradient that lifts fluid toward the bubble’s peak, where it cools and gathers. Eventually, the cold fluid grows heavy enough to sink down the side of the bubble (in either a constant stream or occasional drips); with warm fluid getting pulled up to replace it (via the Marangoni effect), the process repeats and the bubble lives on. (Video credit: S. Nath et al.; see also)
For many microswimmers, like bacteria or spermatozoa, swimming through common fluids is like moving through mud. Unless they can produce enough thrust to overcome a fluid’s yield-stress, they are effectively stuck in a solid. A recent study breaks down exactly what a microswimmer has to manage, assuming they use a helical, corkscrew-like tail for propulsion.
The first barrier is creating enough force to be able to rotate in the fluid, but that alone is not enough to ensure forward motion. Once rotating, the swimmer’s thrust has to be large enough to deform the fluid around it. Without that, the swimmer is stuck. And, finally, once they’re moving, the swimmer’s tail pitch determines how fast they can move and whether the fluid’s characteristics slow it down.
The researchers hope their work can shed light on propulsion for bacteria in the body, as well as larger creatures like burrowing earthworms and fruit-invading parasites. (Image credit: SwedishStockPhotos; research credit: F. Nazari et al.; via APS Physics)
Tomorrow mathematician Luis Caffarelli will receive the Abel Prize — one of the highest honors in mathematics — in part for his work in fluid dynamics. Caffarelli is one of the authors of a partial proof of regularity for the Navier-Stokes equations, the equations governing fluid motion. A full proof of regularity and smoothness — essentially showing that the equations never break down or blow up to infinity — is one of the open Millennium Problems. Caffarelli is the first mathematician born and educated in South America to receive the Abel Prize. Congratulations to Professor Caffarelli! (Image credit: N. Zunk/University of Texas at Austin; via Nature; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)